Mates at Billabong | Page 8

I don't believe in for boys of twenty."
The dinner gong sounded. Amid its echoes Norah might have been heard murmuring something about "nervous grandmother."
"H'm," said her father, laughing; "I don't think he'll find much sympathy with his more fragile symptoms in Billabong--we must try to brace him up, Norah. But whatever will Jim say, I wonder!"
"He'll be too disgusted for words," Norah answered. "Poor old Jimmy! I wonder how they'll get on. D'you suppose Cecil ever played football?"
"From Cecil's appearance I should say he devoted his time to wool-work," said Mr. Linton. "However, it may not turn out as badly as we think, and it's no use meeting trouble halfway, is it? Also, we've to remember that he'll be our guest."
"But that's the trouble," said Norah, laughing. "It wouldn't be half so bad if you could laugh at him. I'll have to be so hugely polite!"
"You'll probably shock him considerably in any case," said her father. "Cecil's accustomed to very prim young ladies, and it's not at all unlikely that he'll try to reform you!"
"I wish him luck!" said Norah. But there was a glint in her eyes which boded ill for Cecil's reformatory efforts
CHAPTER III

A BATH--AND AN INTRODUCTION
Quiet and shy, as the Bush girls are, But ready-witted and plucky, too. A. B. PATERSON.
The telegram assuring a welcome to Cecil Linton was duly dispatched, and the fact of his impending arrival broken to Mrs. Brown, who sniffed portentously, and gave without enthusiasm directions for the preparation of his room. "Mrs. Geoffrey" was rather a bugbear to Brownie, who had unpleasant recollections of a visit in the past from that majestic lady. During her stay of a week, she had attempted to alter every existing arrangement at Billabong--and when she finally departed, in a state of profound disapproval, the relief of the homestead was immense. Brownie was unable to feel any delight at the idea of entertaining her son.
Norah and her father made the utmost of their remaining time together. Thursday was devoted to a great muster of calves, which meant unlimited galloping and any amount of excitement; for the sturdy youngsters were running with their mothers in one of the bush paddocks, and it was no easy matter to cut them out and work them away from the friendly shelter and refuge of the trees. A bush-reared calf is an irresponsible being, with a great fund of energy and spirits--and, while Norah loved her day, she was thoroughly tired as they rode home in the late evening, the last straggler yarded in readiness for the branding next day. Mr. Linton sent her to bed early, and she did not wake in the morning until the dressing gong boomed its cheerful summons through the house.
Mr. Linton was already at breakfast when swift footsteps were heard in the hall above; a momentary silence indicated that his daughter was coming downstairs by way of the banisters, and the next moment she arrived hastily.
"I'm so sorry, Dad," Norah said, greeting him. "But I DID sleep! Let me pour out your coffee."
She brought the cup to him, investigated a dish of bacon, and slipped into her place behind the tall silver coffee pot.
"What are we going to do to-day, Dad?"
"I really don't quite know," Mr. Linton said, smiling at her. "There aren't any very pressing jobs on hand--we must cut out cattle to-morrow for trucking, but to-day seems fairly free. Have you any ideas on the subject of how you'd like to spend it? I've letters to write for a couple of hours, but after that I'm at your disposal."
Norah wrinkled her brows.
"There are about fifty things I want to do," she said. "But most of them ought to wait until Jim comes home." She thought for a moment. "I don't want to miss any more time with Bobs than I have to--could we ride over to the backwater, Dad, and muster up the cattle there? You know you said you were going to do so, pretty soon."
"I'd nearly forgotten that I had to see them," Mr. Linton said, hastily. "Glad you reminded me, Norah. We'll have lunch early, and go across."
Norah's morning was spent in helping Mrs. Brown to compound Christmas cakes--large quantities of which were always made and stored well before Christmas, with due reference to the appetites of Jim and his friends. Then a somewhat heated and floury damsel donned a neat divided riding skirt of dark-blue drill, with a white-linen coat, and the collar and tie which Norah regarded as the only reasonable neck gear, and joined her father in the office.
"Ready? That's right," said he, casting an approving glance at the trim figure. "I've just finished writing, and the horses are in."
"So's lunch," Norah responded. "It's a perfectly beautiful day for a ride, Daddy--hurry up!"
The day merited Norah's epithet, as